


The Citrus Effect

by Selenic



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, PWP, Possessive Behavior, Rodney's Citrus Allergy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 12:52:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/610027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selenic/pseuds/Selenic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Rodney's reaction to citrus was of a different nature...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Citrus Effect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [popkin16](https://archiveofourown.org/users/popkin16/gifts), [melagan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/melagan/gifts), [sgamadison](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sgamadison/gifts).



> My entry for [Fannish Advent](http://fannish-advent.livejournal.com/) 2012.
> 
> The fic was inspired by [popkin16](http://archiveofourown.org/users/popkin16/pseuds/popkin16) and [melagan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/melagan/pseuds/melagan); popkin16 for writing [this](http://melagan.livejournal.com/295720.html?thread=3970600#t3970600), which lead to melagan mentioning there should be more fics with possessive!Rodney :) Hope they approve.
> 
> Edit: And how could I have forgotten [sgamadison](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sgamadison/pseuds/sgamadison)'s wonderful [bug!John fic](http://melagan.livejournal.com/295720.html?thread=3969320#t3969320), which was mentioned by melagan as well! (Sorry for the mixup with the links too, it's now fixed...)
> 
> Unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine. Crossposted on [LJ](http://selenic76.livejournal.com/10932.html) | [DW](http://selenic76.dreamwidth.org/687.html)

 

The Citrus Effect

 

It was another pointless soirée arranged to introduce them—the celebrated saviours of Earth—to more pompous asses in high positions. And their wives, the glittering, chattering masses of which had once again circled Teyla and were bombarding her with questions on the lines of ‘were you scared’ and ‘how _do_ you keep your nails from braking while handling such big guns’. Why they never bothered the earthborn female members of the expedition with such things remained a mystery. Teyla answered everything politely, but John could tell by the tightness of her shoulders, that her patience was running out. 

At least she was wearing a comfortable looking silky gown, which was probably much better suited to the thick atmosphere heated by the throng of people than John’s dress blues. It felt more like a night in the humid tropics than the end of December in the D.C. John looked at his watch again, and couldn’t believe only two agonizing minutes had gone by. He wondered if he should go in and rescue Teyla, but decided she was more than capable of doing that herself. And unlike John, she’d even manage to do it gracefully.

There were way too many people, way too close, and John had way too little in common with them. Thankfully only a few had the courage to initiate conversation with him, perhaps because of John’s constant scowling. Even they soon tired of his one grunt responses. A small clearing had formed around him as people tried to avoid the annoyed aviator.

He’d been ready to leave as soon as all the speeches were done, but Woolsey had insisted that they _mingle_. After all, many of the guests here would be deciding on whether they got the funding needed to repair Atlantis, and to eventually return to the Pegasus galaxy. To return home.

Rodney actually seemed to enjoy the whole situation. John spotted him a little way off, enthusiastically explaining something to a surrounding crowd of admirers. Finally being able to make some of his more classified discoveries public—and thus declaring once and for all his unsurpassed genius to the scientific community—had really inflated his ego. But getting the recognition he deserved made Rodney happy, and though John loved him whether he was grumpy or not, a pleased Rodney was easier to live with than a disgruntled one. And he really did look stunning his dark, tailored suit, glowing with unbridled pride. 

“You’re in trouble now,” Ronon’s deep voice rumbled, as he suddenly appeared next to John. Though he hated these events as much as John, Ronon had the enviable ability to make the best of them; usually by taking full advantage of his hero status and enjoying all the free food and drinks that were there for the grabbing, once you ignored the looks you got from the snooty people. Ronon had already removed his constricting tie, and the top button of his shirt seemed to have come off somehow. He was carrying two glasses of punch, one of which was shoved into John’s hand. As if sensing John’s gaze on him, Rodney turned to look in his direction, and there was a definite glint in his eyes. 

“Trouble?” John asked, licking his lips in a flirty response to Rodney. “What kind of trouble?” Now Rodney smiled, in that wonderful, crooked way of his that always meant he was up to something, and then downed the rest of the drink in his hand. John was already anticipating an interesting night in the very expensive hotel room that had been booked for them. He took a sip of the punch, enjoying the nicely balanced and not overly sweet flavour, especially the pleasant tartness of what must be from some kind of citrus bitters— John froze. _Oh no, not here._

They never found out exactly which of the countless ancient devices they’d come into contact with had actually been the cause, but whatever it was, the effect it had had on Rodney’s allergies had been an interesting one. Lemons certainly no longer posed a lethal threat, but that didn’t mean they weren’t to be avoided.

“That was his third glass of the stuff,” Ronon answered with a devious grin before disappearing back into the crowd. Rodney had already excused himself from his admirers, discarded his empty glass, and started to determinately make his way towards John.

And as fates would have it, an attractive and suitably inebriated young woman chose that exact moment to decide she was bored, and that grouchy looking men in uniforms were hot. She swayed closer, her semi-transparent dress and very transparent expression leaving no doubt about her intentions.

“I think I’m done with this party,” she purred seductively, stepping between John and his line of sight on Rodney, pushing up against him. “Care to escort me to my room, soldier boy?” John began formulating a polite but firm refusal in his mind, but Rodney’s looming shadow was already upon them. He stopped right behind the unsuspecting woman, and gently bent down a bit to get his mouth close to her ear.

“Unless you have something substantially larger between you’re legs than that string you call underwear,” Rodney said, his tone quiet yet subtly menacing. “And somehow in the next few seconds manage to increase your intelligence by several orders of magnitude on a base ten logarithmic scale, you’re not his type.” The look on the woman’s face was one of disbelief and irritation, not an uncommon combination in people around Rodney.

Rodney simply ignored her, turning his piercing blue eyes on John. “As for you, Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard...” There was a noticeably dominant edge in Rodney’s words that triggered certain very intriguing responses in John.

“Oh crap,” was all John had time to whisper before Rodney had gripped his wrist, making him drop his drink. Over the sound of the glass shattering on the floor and the young woman’s screech of disapproval as its contents spilled on her, Rodney’s low voice commanded: “Outside, now.” Before he could mount any resistance John was already being dragged through the mass of people, towards and then past the open doors leading to the garden.

The night air felt refreshingly cool after the heat inside, but John didn’t have time to enjoy it. Once outside Rodney pulled him straight into the nearest shadow—round the corner and behind a conveniently large decorative pillar—pushed John against the wall and claimed his mouth with his own. 

The kiss was raw and possessive, Rodney’s tongue almost invasive as it pushed past John’s lips. And John’s body yielded, like it always did when Rodney got like this. He obediently spread his legs just as soon as Rodney’s knee touched them, letting out a satisfied moan when a thigh pressed against his already hard cock. 

“Can’t believe she even thought she had a chance,” Rodney noted smugly between nipping on John’s lips, and bruising them with more kisses. His own groin ground hard against John’s thigh while his impatient fingers worked on the buttons of John’s coat. Fortunately there weren’t that many people outside, and the noise from the party covered John’s grunts and moans.

“We have a room upstairs you know,” John managed to whisper, when Rodney abandoned his mouth in favour of his jaw line, earlobe; licking the sensitive spot right behind it before sucking on the slightly pointed tip of the ear. That always made John feel weak at the knees, Rodney knew him too damn well. The jacket now open, Rodney yanked John’s shirt from his trousers. 

“Don’t care, want you now,” Rodney growled, the citrus effect clearly kicking into high gear. This time there was no patience left for buttons; the shirt was torn open, exposing warm skin to cold air. John shivered, both with chill and anticipation.

“And I can’t believe—” Rodney mumbled against his bare chest, sliding down slightly to get better access to John’s nipples. He gasped as Rodney’s mouth enveloped one. “—that there weren’t any warning labels near the bowl!“ John could feel hot breath on his skin as Rodney spoke, right before his tongue twirled— “Even after I specifically—” a nip with teeth, “—informed them—“ some gentle sucking, “—about my allergies!” Another twirl, and John had to bite his lip to keep quiet.

“Rodney, please,” John hissed, yet his body arched up, begging for more.

“Mmm, you’re right,” Rodney hummed, suddenly pushing back and standing up. He looked at John, eyes full of hunger. “There’s something else I want in my mouth,” he stated, his demanding voice saturated with pure lust, and damn, it actually made John blush. Rodney flashed him a smile, crooked and triumphant to the core. “Give it to me.”

John had his fly open by the time Rodney had fallen to his knees. The thought of that gorgeous big mouth on his cock overruled any remaining concern of someone walking in on them. Rodney grabbed John’s pants and underwear and pulled them both down in one go, releasing his aching erection.

“Mine,” Rodney declared as he took it in his hand, licking his lips slowly.

“God yes,” John gasped as the hot mouth engulfed him.

Rodney seemed to almost worship John’s cock, lavishing every part of it with attention. Rodney approached sex with the same focused ambition he applied to science, and John had soon realized that no-one could ever compare to Rodney. Now he played John like an intricate instrument; every lick of tongue and slide of hand, how deep Rodney took him in and the rhythm of his motions—all were aimed at prolonging John’s sweet torment.

John was beyond caring if anyone would hear him, unable and unwilling to stop the sounds of pleasure and desperate need from escaping his lips. He was squirming, trying to thrust harder or faster, but Rodney always managed to hold back his orgasm.

“You’re, such...” John howled between hot breaths that turned to vapour in the cold air. “Are such—ah, ah, fuck!—a bastard!” Rodney replied by slipping his hand behind John’s balls, and pressing hard, the closest thing under the circumstances to shoving his fingers inside to reach the prostate. But it was enough. John came hard, gasping, shuddering, back arching as he forced his cock deep into Rodney’s mouth; he was so overtaken by the sensation he couldn’t even make a sound. 

John leaned against the wall, sated and content, as Rodney got up and helped the clothes back on him. The hem of the shirt was stuck in haphazardly, and the jacket remained unbuttoned. The dark blue tie still hung in place around John’s neck, and Rodney grabbed the sliver of fabric, pulling it taut before crushing his lips against John’s. The kiss was fervent, demanding, restless—speaking of dire need, and frustration.

“My turn,“ Rodney whispered as he pulled back, flushed and panting, eyes dark as he stared at John, clearly wishing he could just fuck the other man right there. He tugged on the tie and John immediately kneeled, knowing what was expected of him. With an appreciative hum he mouthed the very prominent bulge on Rodney’s pants, tongue running over the small wet spot where the head of the hard cock rested. John bit on it gently, causing the cock to twitch and Rodney to gasp. A sharp pull on the tie implored him to proceed faster.

John still took his time in unbuckling Rodney’s belt, then opening the button and the zipper with teasing slowness, while his mouth spread hot dampness over the other man’s groin. Rodney let out a long impatient moan.

“I want your mouth on my cock in five seconds,” he growled in a low commanding voice. “Or I swear you’re going to suffer the consequences of disobedience the next time I tie you to a bed.” It was more of a promise than an actual threat, for both of them, but John complied nonetheless. The obstructive clothing was lowered just enough to let John take Rodney into his mouth, the flesh feverishly hot despite the coldness, already tasting of leaked come. The quiet whimpering sound Rodney made was one of John’s favourites; one that no-one else got to hear. And he wanted more of those kinds of sounds.

John let the world fade; all he felt was Rodney in his mouth, and the pull on the tie, changing in sync with Rodney’s excitement. John let it lead him, slowing down when Rodney squeezed tighter as he came closer to orgasm, going deeper when the grip relaxed. All he heard was Rodney, his low voice; gasping, moaning, whispering John’s name, pleading.

He took Rodney near the edge several times, until his own desire to make the other man come finally won. As the hold around his neck became tight again, John kept going. Rodney came with a shudder and a ragged moan, deep into John’s mouth, thrusting erratically and with almost a choking grip on the piece of fabric connecting them. And John took it all, not once pulling back or letting go, until it loosened once more. Then he lowered his head, leaning it on the warm skin of his abdomen and nuzzling the coarse curly hair.

“Get up here,” Rodney asked quietly, voice rough from overuse in the cold night. John gently tucked Rodney’s cock back in, zipped him up and fastened the belt before rising to his feet. Slowly Rodney pulled him close and kissed him, this time more tenderly, tasting himself mixing with the taste of John. John wrapped his arms around Rodney, and they lingered in each other’s warmth, enclosed inside a world of their own.

“Mine,” Rodney whispered softly against John’s lips as they finally parted, hand still clutching the rumpled tie. It was a promise, not a claim, and Rodney’s eyes said as much as they met John’s.

“Yours,” John replied, without hesitation, smiling. “Always.” Rodney smiled back.

“Why don’t we...“ he said, with a devious smirk. “...continue this up in our ridiculously expensive hotel room, which, as it happens—since I expressly demanded it—has a king-size bed, a giant bath, and round the clock room service. We are heroes, after all.”

“Knew there had to be an upside to that too,” John replied with a short laugh, and fully intended to make the most of the night. He just had to make sure to keep Rodney away from the punch, and the complimentary fruit basket.

 

~~~ End ~~~

 


End file.
